


Ianto’s Blue Christmas

by badly_knitted



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Community: torchwood_fest, Embarrassment, Family, Hospitals, M/M, Weevils (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/pseuds/badly_knitted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas isn’t going at all as Ianto had planned, but it that really such a terrible thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ianto’s Blue Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for jo02’s prompt ‘Ianto has to spend Christmas day in hospital with a work-related injury. What happens when visitors who don't know about each other converge on the sick?’ at torchwood_fest.

Ianto hadn’t been at all happy to be told he’d be spending Christmas in hospital. He’d had very definite plans this year, and they hadn’t included having to suffer through the hospital version of Christmas dinner. It wasn’t an appealing thought, which was a large part of the reason he was so down in the mouth. 

He’d come to know hospital food far more intimately than he would have liked earlier that year when he’d needed surgery to repair a badly broken leg. It simply wasn’t fair that now, not only was he being denied all the succulent delights he and Jack had planned for the holiday season, but he was going to miss Rhi’s traditional turkey dinner too. The universe clearly had it in for him.

Ironically, it had been an encounter with a wandering Weevil while doing some last minute Christmas shopping that had led to him being hospitalised in the first place. He hadn’t even been working; Jack had let everyone take off at lunchtime because they’d all been so busy with work in the run up to Christmas that they hadn’t had time to buy gifts. 

At a little after four that afternoon, when it was almost dark, Ianto, heavily laden with his purchases, had made his way back to where he’d left his car at the far side of the supermarket car park. That area didn’t have good lighting, but it had been more convenient for the shops he wanted to visit. He’d just dumped all his bags in the boot and was slamming it shut when the Weevil had seemed to appear out of nowhere, snarling and slashing at him with its claws. Pinned against the rear of the car and with no easy escape, he’d fumbled for his gun, intending to shoot his attacker, but it had sunk its fangs into his arm before he could even pull the automatic from his belt holster and in the struggle, the gun had gone off. He still couldn’t believe he’d managed to shoot himself in the leg. 

Perhaps frightened by the loud bang, the Weevil had let go of him and when a crowd of other shoppers had begun to converge at the sound of the gunshot, it had fled back into the shadows. People could be rather dense, Ianto had thought as they’d gathered around him. Anyone with any sense should have run the other way on hearing gunfire rather than deciding to investigate. Not that he’d been in a position to complain; their curiosity had most likely saved his life. He’d been lying on the cold tarmac by then, right upper arm and shoulder well chewed by the Weevil, and a bullet deep in his left thigh. If the Weevil hadn’t finished him off then blood loss probably would have. Just went to show that it was never a good idea to let your guard down, regardless of circumstances. Blaming the holiday season for his inattention seemed a bit scrooge-like, but it was amazing how quickly the festive spirit had deserted him while he waited for the ambulance to arrive, surrounded by complete strangers gawking at him and asking if he was alright. Why do people insist on asking stupid questions?

He’d been pathetically grateful that the first police officer on the scene had been Detective Swanson, who’d also been doing some last minute shopping. At least she’d known he was Torchwood and therefore fully licensed to carry a gun, so she hadn’t tried to arrest him. That would’ve been the icing on the cake.

So here he was, Weevil bites freshly stitched and dressed, bullet removed and wound treated, feeling thoroughly sorry for himself. He didn’t care what anyone said, he planned on wallowing in his self-pity; he’d earned the right. At least the nurses had let him call Jack and Rhiannon to let them know what had happened, or at least as much of the truth as he could tell Rhi, which wasn’t a lot. She was under the impression that he’d been savaged by a vicious stray dog; he just hoped no one would mention anything about the bullet. His sister still thought that he worked for the Civil Service; the fact that he’d been carrying a firearm while doing his Christmas shopping might come across as a bit suspicious.

The only consolation Ianto could see to his current situation was that he had a small side ward all to himself instead of being out in the main ward surrounded by other patients and nursing staff trying to convince him to be jolly.

Bah humbug!

Jack had stopped in briefly while Ianto was still too groggy to feel like having company, so after making sure he would be well cared for he’d said he was going to collect Ianto’s car and take it home for him, then go after the Weevil. Before he’d left, Ianto had told him, “Don’t get yourself killed, and be careful with your coat because the dry cleaners are closed tomorrow.” Jack always needed reminding about stuff like that. The trouble was, Ianto wasn’t sure now if he’d said it out loud or if he’d just thought about saying it. Thanks to the painkillers, he fell asleep while he was still wondering.

 

OoOoOoO

 

Christmas Day dawned way too early. It was practically the only day of the year when Ianto could almost count on getting a lie in, but apparently that wasn’t allowed in hospital. He was woken unceremoniously at a quarter past six by a nurse who had no right to be so cheerful at that hour.

“Good morning, Mr Jones! Merry Christmas to you!”

“Hmpf.”

“Did you have a good night?”

Ianto contented himself with glaring balefully at Nurse Cheerful. He must have been off his game because even his best glare didn’t have any noticeable effect on her.

“How’s your pain?”

Now that she mentioned it… “Painful.” What did she expect? He’d been mauled by a Weevil, and shot into the bargain!

“We’ll soon fix that. Here you go, you just take these and relax.” She handed him two pills and a glass of lukewarm water from the jug that had been sitting just out of his reach on his tray table all night. “Will you be having visitors today?”

“God, I hope not,” Ianto muttered despairingly. That was the last thing he needed. The nurse was already on her way out of his room, so hopefully she hadn’t heard. No doubt she was on her way to spread Christmas cheer to the other lucky patients. Ianto would have pulled the covers over his head and tried to pretend that he wasn’t there, but predictably they wouldn’t pull up that far. Nothing was going his way.

Christmas breakfast proved to be barely warm, lumpy porridge that even Scrooge would have found inedible, cold toast, and a cup of weak tea with too much milk. NHS fare at its best. To keep his strength up, Ianto forced down the tea, still better than hospital coffee, and the toast, but the porridge was more suitable for use as glue. Anyway, he would’ve needed both hands to pry the spoon free and right now he only had one that worked.

After breakfast, two nurses insisted on giving him a bed bath, despite his assurances that he could manage perfectly well on his own, and changed the dressings on his wounds. It was a relief to finally be left alone with his gloomy thoughts.

Mid-morning brought the doctor on his rounds, accompanied by two very bored looking medical students who looked as though they’d rather be anywhere else. They did perk up a bit at getting to look at an actual bullet wound, but seemed disappointed that it didn’t look more dramatic. You just couldn’t please some people.

Christmas dinner was served at precisely one o’clock. Tired looking slices of dry turkey, a few greyish sprouts, a single rock hard stuffing ball, and mashed potatoes from a packet, all drizzled with greasy gravy. It was enough to make a man weep. He poked at the main course, nibbled at the stuffing, but couldn’t make himself eat anything else no matter how hungry he was. At least the mince pies for dessert proved more or less edible. Closing his eyes, he imagined Rhi, Johnny and the kids tucking in to succulent, moist turkey, an assortment of perfectly cooked veg, roast potatoes, Christmas pudding… He should be there stuffing himself until he was too full to move. Damned Weevil; it had ruined his Christmas.

“Well, don’t you look cheerful!”

Ianto’s eyes snapped open. “Rhi! What’re you doing here?”

“Visiting my little brother, of course. God, Ianto, I hope animal control catches the dog that attacked you. It didn’t have rabies or anything, did it?”

“No, nothing like that. I’ve been tested,” he lied. “I thought you’d be sitting down to dinner about now.” Ianto sniffed the air. “I can practically smell all that delicious home cooking.” His stomach rumbled, reminding him just how hungry he was. Man cannot live on a slice of dry toast and two mince pies alone.

“We ate early so we could be here for visiting hours. Johnny and the kids will be here in a bit; I wanted to make sure you were up to having visitors first so they went to the park for an hour. I got you some grapes for later.” Rhi held up a bag. Ianto could’ve kissed her; at least now he wouldn’t die of starvation. He gazed longingly at the grapes, then realised that Rhi was still speaking. “And knowing what hospital food’s like, I brought you this too.” She opened the insulated bag he hadn’t noticed she was carrying and took out a foil-covered dish, unwrapping it to reveal a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. “You couldn’t come to us for Christmas, so I thought we’d bring Christmas to you!”

Tears filled Ianto’s eyes at the sight. “You are the best sister in the world! I thought I’d have to starve! I hope you brought cutlery too because I’d rather not have to eat with my fingers. It’s undignified.”

“Right here,” Rhiannon smirked, handing him a knife and fork, then pouring gravy over the meat from a little pot she’d taken from the bag. “Better eat before it gets cold.”

Ianto didn’t need telling twice. He dug in, a little awkwardly because of his injured arm and the IV line, sticking his fork in roast potatoes, carrots, and sprouts and biting bits off. His sister cut up the rest of the dinner for him so he could manage more easily one-handed.

Rhiannon had also brought him a generous helping of Christmas pudding for dessert, and assorted mince pies, Welshcakes, sausage rolls and Christmas cookies for later. There was even a flask of tea.

“No wine?” Ianto mock-pouted.

“Cheeky bugger! Not while you’re on painkillers; the nurses would kill me.”

“Ah well, I suppose I’ll survive without it,” Ianto teased, stabbing a bit of bacon. “This is delicious enough not to need a wine accompaniment.”

By the time Ianto was basking in his traditional post-turkey stupor, Johnny, Mica and David had arrived, laden with presents, Christmas crackers, and board games.

“Happy Christmas, Uncle Ianto!” Mica cried, scrambling onto the bed to hug him.

“Careful!” Rhi cried. “I don’t want you hurting your uncle.”

Mica refrained from hugging and just gave Ianto a kiss on the cheek. “Feel better soon.”

“Thank you, Mica, I’m sure I will.”

“Was there a lot of blood? Were you bitten right down to the bone?” David asked with ghoulish fascination.

“David, that’s gross and icky!” Mica complained.

“Not the kind of thing any of us want to talk about right now,” Rhiannon agreed. “It’s Christmas, we should talk about happy things. Why don’t you two help your uncle open his presents?”

“I feel bad that I don’t have anything to give you,” Ianto said sadly. “I was going to wrap your presents last night, everything’s at home waiting.”

“Well, we’ll just have to have another Christmas party at your place once you’re home,” Rhi decided. “It’ll be fun, I’ll cook us leg of lamb or something.”

“Yay!” cried Mica. “I bet no one else is having two Christmases!”

An hour or so later, gifts opened, crackers pulled, and everyone wearing paper hats, Ianto and his family were deep into a game of Monopoly when the door to the room flew open and a very familiar coat swept through, its wearer hidden behind a pile of gaily wrapped gifts topped by a small, decorated tree.

“Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas, gorgeous! I hope you’re ready for your Christmas blowjob!”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as the door swung closed behind Jack, until it was broken by a small voice.

“Mum, what’s a blowjob?” Mica asked, frowning. 

“Uh, that’s a very rude word for a special kind of kiss between two people who love each other, and I don’t ever want to hear either of you saying it,” Rhi managed, looking sternly at her children before giving Ianto a funny look. David, who was probably just about old enough to have heard the term from older friends at school, was biting his lip. Johnny had gone red and his shoulders were shaking as he tried not to laugh at the mortified expression on his brother-in-law’s face.

Ianto looked heavenward and groaned, wishing he could hide, or better yet, wake up and find it was all just a bad dream. This couldn’t be happening; the universe really must hate him! He couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d done to deserve such torture.

Jack’s head poked around his burden; he was wearing a bright green plastic headband from which a wire stuck up with a sprig of plastic mistletoe dangling from the end. It was horrendously tacky, yet somehow very Jack. He flashed his best megawatt smile at Rhiannon, all dazzling white teeth and effortless charm.

“Well hello there! Captain Jack Harkness, and who might you be?”

Practically no one was immune to that smile, and Rhi was no exception, her cheeks flushing pink as she smiled back. Johnny didn’t find that anywhere near as amusing as Ianto’s discomfiture had been, and glared at the interloper.

“Jack!” Ianto’s voice came out as a tight, strained squeak of horror. “Stop hitting on my sister!”

Jack’s head disappeared, to reappear around the other side of the pile of presents, a softer, more genuine smile lighting his face. “Oh, there you are! Happy Christmas, sweetheart! I know how much you hate being in the hospital, so I thought I’d come and cheer you up. These are for you!” He raised his arms slightly and the pile of parcels teetered alarmingly. Johnny grabbed Mica, lifting her out of danger as Rhi made a grab, rescuing the top half of the pile before anything could fall. Jack set the rest on the end of the bed, flashing Rhi another devastating smile. “Thanks. I got them all the way up here in the lift without any trouble, wouldn’t do to drop them now! Where should I put the tree? I noticed last night that you didn’t have any decorations. Can’t have Christmas without a tree! How about here?” Jack squeezed past everyone to stand the tree on the windowsill. “There, that’s more Christmassy! I decorated it myself, you know.”

“I can tell,” Ianto commented dryly. The tree was lopsided and over laden with sparkly things in every colour imaginable. Most of them clashed horribly, but Jack looked so pleased with himself that Ianto didn’t have the heart to tell him it was hideous. Sometimes Jack had no taste whatsoever.

Rhi cleared her throat. “So, Ianto, are you going to introduce us properly or do we have to do it ourselves?”

Ianto winced; this wasn’t going to be fun. He hadn’t even told Rhi he was dating, never mind that he was seeing a man, although after Jack’s blowjob comment it was a safe bet that she knew now.

“Um, Jack, this is my sister Rhiannon, her husband Johnny, and my niece and nephew, Mica and David.” Ianto turned to Rhi. “Jack’s my… um…”

“Boyfriend,” Jack filled in, “but I double as his boss.”

“You’re dating your boss?” Rhi did the Jones eyebrow thing. “Your male boss?”

“Um, well… yes?”

Rhi looked thoughtfully at Jack. “Ianto’s seemed happier lately, but I thought he had a new girlfriend, not a boyfriend.” She shrugged. “But I suppose it makes no difference really, does it? Not as long as you treat him right anyway. It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” Rhi held out her hand and Jack, turning the charm up full force, took it and kissed her fingers.

“Enchanted. Ianto’s told me a lot about you, but I have to say your pictures don’t do you justice.”

“Well, aren’t you the charmer? So, Ianto talks about his family?”

“Yes, quite often,” Jack assured her.

“Funny, he’s never said a word about you; I’d remember if he had!” She glared at her brother.

“I was going to tell you, I just never quite got around to it.” Ianto’s cheeks went a bit pink and he avoided his sister’s eyes.

“Hmmm, we’ll discuss this later, when there aren’t little ears around to hear.”

Mica was paying no attention to the adults; she was too busy looking at all the presents piled on the bed and broke the awkward silence that had descended with a question. “What have you bought for Uncle Ianto? I got him a new tie. It’s purple. Mum got him a warm jumper and slippers and David got him Despicable Me!”

“Despicable who?” Jack asked, confused.

“It’s a DVD, Jack.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Jack’s tastes are stuck in the Forties,” he told Rhi, “as you may have noticed from his outfit.”

“Hey! This style is classic!” Jack mock pouted at Ianto. “Anyway, you know you love it.”

“It does suit you,” Ianto conceded. “My feet are going to sleep. What’s so heavy?” Ianto wriggled his toes under the covers, making the colourful parcels jiggle.

“Want to find out?” Jack reached for one of the presents.

“Present time!” Mica shouted. She didn’t care that they weren’t for her; she just wanted to know what was inside them.

“Start with this one.” Jack handed Ianto a small parcel. 

Ianto eyed it dubiously. “Are you sure it’s safe to open this in company?”

“Yep!” Jack beamed at him and then frowned, quickly shuffling through the other gifts and setting several to one side, out of the way. “We’d better save those for later, but that one’s fine.”

Ianto still looked wary, but he opened it anyway, to find a pair of red novelty Christmas boxer shorts with penguins all over them. Ianto’s cheeks heated up. “Jack!”

“Aren’t they brilliant? Press just there and they play music!” Jack pointed at the tab on the waistband. “I’ve got some too, but mine have mistletoe on them to match this.” He pointed at his headband, which Ianto had almost managed to forget about, then fumbled at his waistband until the tinny strains of ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’ came from his trousers. “I think yours play ‘Winter Wonderland’.”

“Unbelievable,” Ianto groaned.

Rhi and Johnny were laughing their heads off. Ianto wondered if he could get away with killing Jack in front of everyone. Probably not. Why did Jack have to love cheesy novelties so much? 

“Shame you can’t really wear them in here, but we can save them for when you’re home, then we can have fun with them.”

“Do you have to work at being embarrassing or does it come naturally?” Ianto asked, a pained expression on his face.

Jack just grinned and leaned down to kiss him on the top of his head. “Open this one next.” He set the biggest box on Ianto’s lap. “Let me know if you need help with it.”

Ianto hesitated. “Nothing’s going to jump out of this, is it?” he asked, having visions of some giant inflatable… something bursting free as he removed the lid, to scare the life out of everybody present and embarrass him further.

Jack looked wounded. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I know you, Jack, I’ve learned from experience it doesn’t pay to be too trusting!”

Jack just laughed at that. “You’re safe, I promise.”

“We’ll see.” The box was a solid weight on his lap as Ianto eased the lid up one handed, refusing Jack’s offer of assistance. He wanted to at least open these gifts from Jack by himself after having help with the ones from his family. A big part of the fun of getting presents was in opening them and finding out what was inside. The lid slid off the bed onto the floor with a thud and Ianto folded back crisp tissue paper to reveal a carefully folded, warm and weighty black overcoat with a deep burgundy silk lining. Lifting it part out of the box, feeling the high quality wool against his fingers, Ianto sighed reverently. “Oh Jack, this is gorgeous!”

“I owed you a new coat considering it was my fault your good one got ruined. I had it made to measure, so it should be a perfect fit.”

“I love it! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mister Jones. Let’s see what else we have.”

Ianto took his time opening the rest of his gifts, making the kids alternately frustrated by his slowness and disappointed by what they felt were uninteresting contents: Two new shirts, a pair of fleece-lined leather driving gloves, a handsome new red silk bathrobe, the special edition DVD of the most recent James Bond film, which at least met David’s approval, Garnet cufflinks, which Mica thought were pretty, a new wallet with a picture of him and Jack already installed, and a leather bound journal since his old one was nearly full. It was an impressive haul and Ianto was delighted with everything. 

The final parcel Jack deemed safe for opening in front of Ianto’s family turned out to be a massive box of chocolates, dark of course, which Ianto opened so everyone could enjoy them, though all except Jack were still too stuffed from dinner to manage more than a couple each. That made Ianto think.

“Jack, what did you do for dinner?” The plan had been for them to have a slightly belated Christmas dinner at a restaurant on Boxing Day since Ianto was supposed to be eating at his sister’s on Christmas Day. Jack had booked them a table months ago.

“I didn’t have time for much so I just got some chips on my way here.”

“Chips for Christmas dinner?” Rhi was horrified.

“It’s okay, Ianto and I were planning to have our holiday dinner tomorrow at the Bayside Brasserie. I suppose I’d better cancel our reservations though,” he added to Ianto, “since you’ll be stuck here for a couple more days.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. We had such great plans.”

“It’s not your fault, Ianto, it was just bad luck. I’ll re-book for next month instead. It won’t be the Christmas menu then, I know, but we always enjoy eating there and there’s always next Christmas.”

“Right, can’t have you surviving on chips at Christmas! You’re coming over to ours for dinner tomorrow,” Rhi told Jack in a tone that brooked no argument. “Twelve o’clock sharp. Then you can bring dinner to Ianto at visiting time so he doesn’t starve.” With that settled, as far as she was concerned, Rhi turned to the others. “Now, who’s for another game of Monopoly since it seems like we’ve lost track of who was winning the last one? Pull up a chair, Jack. You get to be the boot.”

Jack didn’t bother with a chair, hanging his coat on a hook and squeezing onto the bed beside Ianto before stealing a kiss. “Mistletoe,” he said with a wink, pointing at his headband.

“Like you need any excuse.” 

“What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

“Sweet talker.”

Mica reached across Ianto’s tray table and the Monopoly board to tug at Jack’s sleeve. “If you’re Uncle Ianto’s boyfriend, does that mean you’re our uncle too?”

“I don’t know. I guess that’s up to you guys.”

“You’re funny, you’d be a good uncle.” Mica looked at David, who nodded agreement. “Okay. You go first, Uncle Jack.”

Jack beamed at the children, picking up the dice and shaker, rolling five and moving the boot five spaces on the board.

“I think I’m going to like being Uncle Jack.”

Ianto was quick to correct him. “Honorary uncle. Technically, we’d have to be married for you to be their official uncle.” Ianto spoke in a whisper so no one else heard as the other players took their turns.

“Maybe we can work on making things official. I’m game if you are.” Jack kept his voice equally low and Ianto looked at him in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.” Jack nudged him gently. “You can give me your answer later, right now it’s your turn, you’re holding up the game.”

“Right. Of course, the game comes first.” Ianto rolled seven and moved the iron, smiling to himself. This might not be the Christmas he’d planned, but it was turning out to be far more interesting, not to mention entertaining, than he could have imagined.

 

The End


End file.
